───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── renamed: rothenberg.txt to weimar.txt ───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── @ weimar.txt:4 @ Black milk of morning we drink you at dusktime we drink you at noontime and dawntime we drink you at night we drink and drink we scoop out a grave in the sky where it's roomy to lie There's a man in this house who cultivates snakes and who writes who writes when it's nightfall nach Deutschland your golden hair Margareta he writes it and walks from the house and the stars all start flashing he whistles his dogs to draw near whistles his Jews to appear starts us scooping a grave out of sand he commands us play up for the dance Coal-black milk of morning we drink it at evening we drink it at noon and at daybreak we drink it at night we drink and we drink we shovel a grave in the skies there is room enough there A man lives in the house he plays with his vipers he writes he writes when it darkens to Germany your golden hair Marguerite he writes it and steps out of doors and the stars are shining he whistles his dogs to come up he whistles his Jews to come out to shovel a grave in the ground he commands us strike up a tune for the dance Black milk of morning we drink you at night we drink you at dawntime and noontime we drink you at dusktime we drink and drink There's a man in this house who cultivates snakes and who writes who writes when it's nightfall nach Deutschland your golden hair Margareta your ashen hair Shulamite we we scoop out a grave in the sky where it's roomy to lie Coal-black milk of morning we drink you at night we drink you at daybreak and noon and we drink you at evening we drink and we drink A man lives in the house he plays with his vipers he writes he writes when it darkens to Germany your golden hair Marguerite Your ashen hair Shulamite we shovel a grave in the skies there is room enough there He calls jab it deep in the soil you men you other men sing and play he tugs at the sword in his belt he swings it his eyes are blue jab your spades deeper you men you other men play up again for the dance He shouts dig deeper into the earth you here and you there start singing and playing he clutches the gun in his belt he waves it his eyes are blue dig deeper your spades you here and you there keep playing that dance tune Black milk of morning we drink you at night we drink you at noontime and dawntime we drink you at dusktime we drink and drink there's a man in this house your golden hair Margareta your ashen hair Shulamite he cultivates snakes Coal-black milk of morning we drink you at night we drink you at noon and at daybreak we drink you at evening we drink and we drink a man lives in the house your golden hair Marguerite your ashen hair Shulamite he plays with his vipers He calls play that death thing more sweetly Death is a gang-boss aus Deutschland he calls scrape that fiddle more darkly then hover like smoke in the air then scoop out a grave in the clouds where it's roomy to lie He shouts play the death tune sweeter death is a master from Germany he shouts strike up the fiddles more darkly you'll rise like the smoke to the sky you'll have your own grave in the clouds there is room enough there Black milk of morning we drink you at night we drink you at noontime Death is a gang-boss aus Deutschland we drink you at dusktime and dawntime we drink and drink Death is a gang-boss aus Deutschland his eye is blue he hits you with leaden bullets his aim is true there's a man in this house your golden hair Margareta he sets his dogs on our trail he gives us a grave in the sky he cultivates snakes and he dreams Death is a gang-boss aus Deutschland Coal-black milk of morning we drink you at night we drink you at noon death is a master from Germany we drink you at evening and at daybreak we drink and we drink death is a master from Germany his eye is blue he hits you with bullets of lead his target is you a man lives in the house your golden hair Marguerite he sets loose his dogs after us he gives us a grave in the sky he plays with his vipers and dreams death is a master from Germany your golden hair Margareta your golden hair Marguerite your ashen hair Shulamite